


A Marriage of Convenience

by Person_with_a_cool_name



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassia, Cardassian Law, Interstellar Law, M/M, Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-05-24 04:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Person_with_a_cool_name/pseuds/Person_with_a_cool_name
Summary: Garak is a citizen of Cardassia, obviously. And this makes him subject to Cardassian laws.But just what is he going to do when the state abuses these laws?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CastellanGarak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastellanGarak/gifts).



Shit. Shitshitshit.  
Garak’s thoughts were unusually ineloquent as he stared at the blinding screen, the only lights in his dark and cold room.

He was being ordered back to Cardassia. And, being the intelligent - ahem, tailor- he was, he noticed an excuse when he saw it. They were going to put him against a wall and shoot him. Probably even without audience, just some dark cellar in some Order building.

Shit.

Okay. The only question was what he was going to do about it. Being a Cardassian citizen meant the government had this ability. And it was night impossible for a person like him to get accepted somewhere else. The Federation would have to respect this summit, he would have to go to Cardassia or wait for them to send a ship to take him forcefully and- no. No use in thinking about it.

Elim’s mouth curled in displeasure as he realised he’d have to go to Sisko for help. The man didn’t like him. If he could get him to grant him asylum - no, wait, as soon as, he would manage, don’t panic, Elim, don’t panic! - he’d no doubt owe him a debt. And the commander hat never approved of his methods. He’d have to offer something. Secrets, most likely.

At least morning shift would soon begin - he was too caught up in fear and anger and disgust at himself to sleep, so he might as well catch the human early.

 

His hands were shaking slightly on his way through ops. Elim wore his best clothes, beautiful but not showy, and his muscles stretched a bit in an unthreatening smile.  
This was like a mission. The kind where a simple wrong step meant certain death. He’d done such things a thousand times, but his belly turned at the thought of what was at stake. Of what he was about to ask. 

There was no way to step back now, though. Major Kira and everyone in Ops had already seen him, he had already had to explain why he was there (“Urgent business, Major, really!”) and there wasn’t another way anyways. No way around it, Garak. Do it.

He pressed the button and nearly jumped in surprise as the door whooshed open.  
Well. Time to explain.

“Good Morning, Commander.” Had his voice always been this rough?  
The doors closed directly behind him and this time, he did jump.  
“Good morning, Garak. What brings you here?”  
Staying seated, raktajino in hand, calm and slow speech. A good sign. Sisko wasn’t pissed, just cautious. A bit reluctant even, but hopefully of course he would still help. He was kind, wasn’t he?  
“I - I might have a problem. See, what do you know about Cardassian laws?”  
Sisko, still seated, gesticulated at the empty chair in front of him. “Please, have a seat. I believe this will take longer, won’t it?”  
Garak choose not to answer, respectfully focusing on a point slightly below the Commander’s eyes. The lights were blinding, and his head already ached with lack of sleep.  
With a shaking hand, he pulled the chair back and sat. It was cold, and bright, and the walls were too close. Get a grip, Elim, the voice of his old teacher told him.  
„I still have a Cardassian citizenship. Part of that is - well, the state can recall me at any time to whatever services they request.“  
Sisko nodded slowly. „But as you’re this nervous, I’d guess it’s not simply about some work, is it?“  
Deep breaths, Garak.  
„Let’s just say some people very high in my planet‘s hierarchy like me very little. I’m pretty sure you would never hear of me again. I. I can’t do anything against it. I’m just appealing to you, and to your kindness, to grant me asylum.“  
Sisko’s face fell.  
„I was already informed about this by the Cardassian high command. And I got the paperwork and laws checked by lawyers, there’s no possible way to grant you asylum for that, since officially, you’re not in any danger. I’m sorry, but -"  
At this, Elim suddenly stood up.  
„In this case, I regret to have disturbed you.“  
He turned around and stride to the door, determined to fall apart in the privacy of his quarters.  
The commander‘s steely voice cut through his thoughts: „Stop, Garak!“, he commanded.  
The tone worked immediately. Elim froze mid-motion, scared of what would happen. Sisko had already made it clear he wouldn’t help him - if he really couldn’t was another discussion - but angering him could only worsen his lot.  
Slowly, he turned around, plastered a brittle, artificial smile on his face and apologised.  
„It’s okay, Garak.“, Sisko said nonchalantly. „Under that stress, it’s natural.“ I know!, Garak wanted to scream. The room was still too small and breathing took so much effort and he was just a second from either screaming or crying. Like a child, desperate to be comforted.  
But he was an adult. An ordained agent of the Obsidian Order, exiled or not. And so he didn’t fidget, didn’t even flinch at the all too knowing look and sat back down.

„Garak, I told you we can’t offer you asylum. But with the current treaties, the Cardassian government would have to accept any change in citizenship. So theoretically, you could take a Federation or Bajoran or any other citizenship of our allies, thereby putting you under our protection.“  
Garak ruthlessly squashes the tiny bit of illogical hope.  
„There remains the tiny problem of no one wanting to take in the tailor they believe to be a spy. And a Cardassian one, at that.“ Wow, Elim, Garak thought to himself. Sarcasm is definitely going to endear you to this man.

Sisko raises an eyebrow but didn’t react otherwise. 

„There is, at least in the Federation, the concept of spousal transfer of citizenship. If you’d manage to marry a Federation citizen, this citizenship would automatically transfer to you. And after a standard year, they’d stay even in case of divorce, so you wouldn’t even be bound for life.“

This sounded too good to be true. Not dependent, safe, and even eligible for all the social programs the federation had to offer. He could settle down nearly everywhere, and if the Cardassians ever managed to harm him, at least a token protest would be made.

Oh, it would hurt to lose even that last link to his home, but really, he had never been one to give up. And he didn’t want to die more than he didn’t want to lose his beautiful Cardassia.

Sisko continued: „And I am very sure someone can be found for that endeavour.“  
Was he? Was he offering?  
Garak’s anxiety shot though the roof. What would the commander get out of it? What would he ask for in return? He would have a full year of absolute power over his life. He could do whatever he pleased, ask whatever he wanted, and with the combination of having a high-ranking Starfleet official and his only lifeline in front of him, Elim would not stop him. Wouldn’t be able to.  
Don’t get him angry, Garak.  
He laughed, a brittle sound like thin glass shards in his throat. „I am flattered, commander, but -“  
Sisko cut him off with laughing, himself - not unkindly, but definitely very amusedly. „No offence, but you are not quite my type, Garak. Not quite female enough, to be honest.“  
They both laughed at that and a bit of tension drained from him. The problem of finding someone remained, but still... Maybe he had just the candidate.  
„The good doctor is still a citizen after all the trouble with his special abilities, is he?“ Please, let him be a citizen. Let him be an option.   
Sisko furrowed his brows at that. „Of course, we are not in the habit of exiling people. That has some unpleasant historical connotations- oh.“ Slowly, a smile creeped over his face.  
„Well, Garak. I guess this could work.“  
He offered his hand, which Garak gingerly shook before getting up, this time with a honest smile on his face.  
He was just short of the door when Sisko called him back once again. „Just one tip, Garak - tell him the whole story. Honestly.“  
He didn’t even manage to react before the door opened and he walked out, annoyed at being this transparent.

It would probably be easiest to tell the good doctor right now. He only had eighteen days left until he had to be on Cardassia.  
But maybe he should wait a bit? Until his lunch break?  
With that in mind, Garak walked right past the infirmary and strolled into his shop - opening up, cleaning everything up, preparing his work and resolutely not thinking about what he could say to manipulate him into agreeing. The truth. Just this once Elim had to tell the truth. And he knew it. It didn´t make him less petrified though.


	2. Chapter 2

Suave stride, customer-service smile and easygoing attitude in place, Garak waltzed up to the table and sat down opposite Julian, who wolfed down this food as always.   
Their discussion went by in a blur. Too quickly. And Garak wasn’t ready for this talk, was still sorting out his points when Julian just put down his fork and sighed.  
„What’s going on, Garak?“

He made a noncommittal noise. „I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear doctor.“

Annoyed now, and losing patience. „I would’ve thought we were past playing such games by now. Really. You are preoccupied and nervous. You haven’t been paying attention at all, and you normally only do this if there’s so scheme you’re preparing.“

Ouch. Elim flinched at this. It hurt, mostly because it was true. 

In a lower, calmer voice, Elim presented his answer: „I do indeed prepare something. But it is of utter innocence. You see... I am asking for your hand, Doctor. Believe me, it is-“

A laugh cut him off. „Seriously? You couldn’t come up with any less mean joke? Or less blunt, for that matter? I might have been quite obvious in my attraction to you, but this is harsh, even for you.“  
With a start, Julian stood, pushed his chair to the table and took his half-eaten food.  
„Good day, Mister Garak. If you have any serious problems, you know where to find me.“

And with that, Garak was alone at the table, compeletely stunned.   
The hostile views of everyone around him piercing his back.   
He fled.


	3. we hope against hope to live in this life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After checking my inbox, finally, I saw all those encouraging comments. And they really got me motivated to write again - so enjoy! Thanks to all the people who commented, you are heroes.   
> Warning: Garak’s messed up in this one. A lot of fear, a lot of stress and confusion, and the whole thing seasoned with self-doubt and a slew of internalised issues I might deepen in future chapters.

He desperately tries to find Julian in the following hours. And it’s not really hard on a station with sensors everywhere, except Julian could be quite slippery. Whenever Garak turned up at his last location, he was gone, and besides, what was he going to tell the man?

At one point, he nearly got him. The doctor - no, Julian - evidently had gotten his nurses to cover for him, or he would’ve been in the infirmary, but he had to go to his quarters. And so, hopeful, Garak waited before his front door, anxious and tired from running all over the station. Why were the lights so bright, again?  
And did he want to know what this splotch of brown at the opposite wall was. 

He stared at it, mindless. He must’ve been here for thirty minutes, by now, and it was nearly ten pm. He had had a free day anyways - the perk of being his own employer - but honestly, he had a shop to return to tomorrow. Duty was duty, even with his life on the line, and he’d need money if he’d manage to stay on the station.   
What if he didn’t, though? Would that really be so bad?  
For him, of course, the answer was yes, but let’s be honest, _Elim_ , he told himself - who would miss you? The old, fat ex-spy? The ageing tailor who could barely afford his own quarters? The Cardassian torturer?  
And evidently, Julian thought him cruel enough to play with his feelings. 

Oh.  
He hadn’t even thought about that, yet. Too caught up in confusion and lack of sleep and fear, everything had become a blur. 

But he was so tired. And he’s been afraid all day. Couldn’t that man finally turn up?

There, five meters to the left. A quick draw of breath, an incautious footstep. And tired or not, he was an agent of the Order. Cursing his inattentive was, he preserved his bored pose and ever-so-slightly turned his head towards the curved left hallway.

Of course. The doctor. The person he’d waited for, after all. But now that he was here, with that look of fear in his eyes quickly wiped away by anger and disgust, he was at a loss for words. 

“So you actually planned to ambush me at my quarters. I would’ve expected more fines of you, _Garak_.” His dearest - only, by Cardassia! - friend basically spit his name, and oh, it hurt. 

“Julian, please, just listen to...”

“I’m sick of it, Garak! Sick of your games and your manipulations and of your smug obvious lies! I’ve put up with all the shit you threw at me, and then you turn around and play with my feelings like this? I thought you’d be more subtle in your distaste, at least. But what do I know of Cardassians? I only know you, and you only lie. Maybe childish, senseless pranks are your way of friendship?!”

“My dear doctor, I am quite sure...”

“Don’t you ‘dear doctor’ me! Just leave me the fuck alone!”  
And with this, he turned to stalk away. This was it, Garak realises. His last chance to get it right is right now, or Julian will never listen to him, and in just a few days time, it will be too late.

“Julian! Please, just listen to me!” The uncharacteristic outburst showed some effect. Julian stopped walking mid motion, already halfway around the corner, and turned to face him. 

“What is it?”

Breath, Elim. “I was sincere. And I have an explanation.” He took his hope and squashed it, roughly. He shouldn’t get too much hope, look where that had gotten him, standing in foreign hallways after running through the station all afternoon like a madman. He stepped closer while speaking. No need for people to overhear.   
“I will be executed, Julian. They want me back on Cardassia, and they will shoot me, and I can’t get asylum and you’re my only hope for staying here. It won’t even be forever, just... please.”  
He was aware that he was rambling. And he was begging. High and mighty agent of the Order - and he was, still, because you were in the Order for live, because this wasn’t a job but a way of life - Elim Garak, begging a human to marry him.

Julian looked like he might laugh. Or cry. It was confusing, and late, and the whole hallway was entirely to cold. 

Finally, something like resignation on his face. “Let’s talk that out inside my quarters, yeah?”

“Gladly.”

And so, they went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who’s surprised Garak’s a mess? Anyone?  
> Me neither.


	4. Chapter 4

Back in Julian’s quarters, the confusion and fear turned into leaden tiredness. He’d been awake for what, 36 hours now? And with his aching joints, he certainly wasn’t getting any younger…  
A hand at his side, and he was vaguely aware of the soft carpet and being steered around and pushed and oh. The couch. So soft. It wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes for a second.

“Garak? Hey, Garak!” Who was the monster shaking his shoulder? “I got us tea.”  
Someone sitting next to him. He could feel his breath on his left ear. “Really, I hate to wake you, but I want a damn answer.”

With a start, Garak straightened up. Right. Oh, damn. He had to explain. Julian wanted answers.  
“My apologies, doctor. I - “ The teacup pressed in his hand was warm, vague smells of herbs wafting up to his face. “ - thank you, doctor. As I said before, I am sincere. Cardassia, or more specifically Dukat, is trying to use some antiquated law to force me back planet-side, and that will be my death sentence.”

Julian frowned. “You do realise this sounds like a dime novel plot, don’t you?”

This man was going to be his death! How can you be this caught up in your own way of life? “It might if your civilisation was all about freedom and equality. Mine isn’t, however. I would’ve thought you had learned at least that by now. Cardassians are all about duty, doctor, and that means my state is well within its right to order me wherever they want to.”

“I’ll stop you right there. I’ve given you a chance to explain, Garak, not to insult me. Don’t make me regret this.” Suddenly, he slumped in his seat, giving up the anger, all the tension leaving his body. “So, the government is forcing you back home. What does that have to do with me, Garak?”

“I - I might be able to - What I mean is -” _Ground yourself, Elim. You’re not a trainee anymore._ “This legal trick obviously only works because I am subject to Cardassian law. I can not simply give that citizenship up without gaining another one. And the other powers in the alpha quadrant do not give you the rights easily - most only do so by familial relationships or, if I’d want to have any connection to Ferenginar, a lot of latinum. I don’t have either.”

Julian brightened up. This wasn’t going to be a problem after all! “But for a Federation citizenship, the purely legal one, you could just get a few tests and some legal hoops and a sponsor. I could act as that, probably - all my sub-citizenships are on earth, that makes it even easier with the forms I guess… It would just - _oh_.”

A humourless laugh escaped the Cardassian. “Yeah, oh, my dear doctor. It would just take a few months, and those are months I don’t have left. Transfer through marriage, though, would be immediate.”

Silence fell. What else was there to say?  
A sigh, then Julian acquiesced: “Yeah, sure, Garak. Whatever. We’re going to have to work out some rules, but that can be done tomorrow.”

Just as Garak got up, his heart fell. Much as he’d imagined this to be a more joyous affair, he’d never get more than this. Never more than a marriage of convenience, a mere legal tool.  
“You have to know, Julian, you’re not forced into this forever. If we make it through the first year, we can secure a divorce without any of our status being affected. And whether we choose to uphold appearances or not, I won’t begrudge you your freedom to find more real partners on the side.” It burned to even say this.

A flash of fury on Julian’s dear smooth face, quickly washed away by the resignation from before. He softly guided his guest to the door, hand on the small of his back, a burning point of contact.  
“You really must be out of it, Garak. I don’t want that _freedom_ , haven’t wanted it forever. Why do you think I was so angry? This isn’t one of my on-and-off infatuations.” He took a deep breath. “It’s okay you don’t feel the same though. You don’t have to pretend for me, I’ll do this anyway.”  
And not giving Garak a single chance to answer, he pushed him out of the door with the promise of comming him tomorrow to make appointments.

Garak stood in the hallway, totally out of his element, for the second time today.


End file.
